Scarlet Thread
by Montressor
Summary: Read the explination at the beginning , that'll help out out more than this little line for summaries
1. An Explaination Trust me, you'll need it

The Assignment  
  
This is an assignment for my English classes. The point was to take some story, preferably a famous one , and work it into the here and now.   
  
Example, take Beowulf and somehow make all that happen in modern times with modern day characters, without telling the reader directly what it's from. Then the other students would read it and guess what it was. There was only two real rules.  
  
"** Try to remain true to the story and reality. Your Beowulf cannot blow up the Grendal, (whose a 6th evil warlock demon) with an Uzie.   
  
**No telling! Don't take Beowulf and title your story Beowulf 2 or Grendal's Revenge. Don't name your main character Beowulf (though if you want Wiglaf can keep his name)."  
  
This is what I came up with. So that should make it obvious that just about everything is not mine. I can't remember if there really is Baker Street near the Orange County Fairgrounds, but it seems a good place to have one. I know there's a school closer to the Fairgrounds, but I don't know that place, I know Mt SAC. I'm writing what I know and making up what I don't.  
  
Also note that the chapter titles will change over time. There's no real reason for this, I just like to play around with titles. And please don't be too rude if my writing seems to get off track at times (I'm told it does). I have a very short attention span and oh look something shiny. Anysway where was I? Oh yes. As I was saying, Lansford Hastings is the Gilderoy Lockhart of the 1850's. Suprisingly after that whole little incident with some cannibull (canned-bull??) party in the Rockies no one did anything to get rid of him and he was finally oh hey cool a rock.... I lost my place again....hmmm...  
  
Proof Reader (PR#1): Maybe you should just read the story before she starts talking again 


	2. Watson :In 1878

My name is David H. Lowell. The H doesn't stand for anything, it was just a joke of my parents that stuck. I am a student of astronomy at Mt. San Antonio College , the second son of a doctor and a veterinarian. And for almost three years, I have been her "good ol' Watson."  
  
My first year at the school was also my first year in Southern California. It's always amazing to see how different things are once you cross that invisible line that separates the North from the South. Southern California, or So Cal as the natives called it, had the most highways, the most people jammed together, the most strangeness I had ever seen. You had to know 3 languages just to get find your way home. And everything was so close together. Most people would have enjoyed that, but I loved the feeling that comes with driving a long way, it reminded me of home, where things were far apart. So when I looked for housing there, I wanted something a ways away from the college itself. This got me a good deal of strange looks from the So Cals.   
  
Rescue came to me in my third week, at 9 o'clock at night in the Campus Café. Actually, it had come before then, at about noon in that same place. I had been talking Andrew Stamford about my plans to move out of my Northern parents home. We had gone to the same high school together, and he had gone to college only because his parents said that if he didn't he would have to work. Thus began his career as "the perpetual student."  
  
"A good place, far enough away from here for a good long ride." Were my exact words. Stamford spat out pineapple pizza, stared at me and said "Dude! That's like, deja vu all over again!"  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
"Check it out. There's this chick, I mean girl, in my Ag class right before now, Handling and Restraint. Anyway, she was just going off on how she found a great place in Costa Mesa er something. Just like you said "a good place, far enough away." Ya know, right near the Orange County Fairgrounds. But the price was too high and she was all "If I can't find least one body to share at least half of it with, I'm gonna have bail out, I can't afford all that. Sucks too, cause it's great, and the cheapest I could find." "  
  
It was too real. "Who is she?"  
  
Stamford suddenly became more interested in the pizza's crust than answering my question. "Weeeellllllll..."  
  
"Stamford!"  
  
"Look, I just know what I heard. Far's I know she works here and they give her an education in return. That's all I know I swear!"  
  
It took a bit more poking and prodding, but I finally convinced him to let me at least with speak with her. Not that it would necessary. I'd already made up my mind to join the invisible "her" in staying at this place. Stamford had her again in Animal Science that night. After each lesson the class went down to the Café to hang out, because "there ain't no reason ta go home when there's stuff ta do here for an hour longer." So I was to meet them there and be introduced to my potential roommate. 


	3. Holmes: You have been in Afghanistan, I ...

At 9:15 the crowd entered, 30 of them in all. They dispersed to arcade games, cafeteria and pool tables, followed by the tired buzzing from talking about the lesson. Stamford came forward with yet more food (something that might have been a burrito once, chips and soda.). He tossed his dinner down on the table and said. "Hey cool ya made it. I didn't think you would." 'Hope" seemed to be nearer to the truth than "think"  
  
"So where is she."  
  
Again, he became very interested in his food. When I pressed him , he said. "Alright Alright, I'll introduce ya! Butcha can't blame me if you don't get along with her."  
  
"Why wouldn't I?"  
  
"Well you don't know her, you might not like being around her all the time, ya know."  
  
"What are you talking about?! Why wouldn't I?" Red flags went up in my mind. "What's wrong with her."  
  
"I didn't say there was anything wrong dude. She's..." he searched long and hard for the words. "She's kinda weird that's all. Look if you've changed yer mind I can..."  
  
"Stamford!"  
  
"Alright okay, c'mon then." He got up and led me to one of the pool tables.  
  
I saw nothing there to be worried over. An average sized girl, stout, with hacked off kind of dark hair, equally dark eyes, and light skin, was busy walking around the table, planning her next move in a game against herself. She looked more like a High School Freshman, or maybe a Junior, rather than a College student. She looked up as we approached, and leaned on the pool cue, waiting for us. Stamford spoke first.  
  
" Mr. David Lowell, Ms. Elise Escott." The girl, sorry, I mean to say woman, took my hand in a tight grip and gave it quick shake and an eve quicker "Hey." Her eyes looked me up and down almost too quickly for me to see and a smile crossed her lips. She nodded to herself as Stamford continued. "David's looking to go with you in that house of yours."  
  
"No' a house, set a rooms is all. " Elise Escott corrected. Her voice was middle class. Every accent in the world came together and mixed into that voice so that in the same sentence she spoke like a Californian, New Yorker, Russian, and Englishman and Irishman (woman). "This woman what lives thare needs a couple a borders to keep the house, and I said I'd be glad ta take it on, if I had the money. She's nice 'nough, so I wanted to find someone ta help out."  
  
She turned back to the pool table and idly continued her game as she spoke. She explained the price the lady was asking, the layout, and other minor details I won't bother boring you with. She had definitely done her research into the place. Suffice to say, in the end we agreed I should have a look at the place. As the bell far off chimed 10 o'clock and we were all shoved out the door, Stamford, Elise and I began the long trek to our cars. Stamford and his bag of chips left by the library. Elise and I walked on, breaking our silence only to talk a bit more about the property in question. At building 7 we said our good-nights. We walked in our own directions for a moment before I hear her call. "Oh by the way! Was London really that bad?" I turned around to face her, a small, moving shadow. I'd never mentioned London. Stamford didn't know I went. Before I could answer, the shadow called cheerfully. "Ah well...I'll find out later. Bon nuit." Then she was gone. 


	4. Baker Street :which would suit us down t...

The house at 6981 Baker St. was one of those that had been a house, and then was a business office, and now was a house again, it as light blue with white trim. The rooms we were being offered on the second and third floors, and consisted of two comfortable bedrooms and a large airy room, illuminated by two windows the size of French Doors, plus the use of all electricity, the kitchen, and the bathrooms. Meals, and cleaning were our own responsibility, and we were expected to help some of the housework. Our landlady, a Mrs. Birdy Garrideb, was one of those women who liked to serve, but wasn't overtly doting. After all, we were her tenants, not her children. The place was so comfortable that we sealed the deal on the spot and within a month, we had moved in.  
  
As for Elise Escott, I began to realize what Stamford had meant by "kinda weird." Her habits were pretty regular, She was in her room by 9 each night. And I would almost never hear a noise from that room again until 7 or 8 the next night, when she would play German and French music, or Italian or Spanish operas. Violin music was most prominent. I could never be sure if it was her playing or a new CD for I never saw an instrument in her possession. She was gone each morning after I woke up. On weekends, she could either be found, in her room, the large room we'd made into a kind of sitting room/study, or out on long walks that took her "nowhere."   
  
What made me doubt was her personality itself. She would have days when her energy was so high, I wondered if she were crazy or suffering from cabin fever. On these days, she gladly doing almost anything Mrs. Garrideb asked her, just to do something. Musetta's Waltz and Toreador would call loudly on days like this, and te violin would dance with joy. These would be followed by days were she'd have drag herself out of bed, and every moment looked incredibly painful.   
  
There was warnings of course. The manic days were signaled by the weather, the Santa Ana's making her the most wild. She would become normal after the energy had been spent. The depressive moods were signaled not by the weather, but by a noise. Her room being above mine, noise sometimes drifted through her floor, my ceiling. So I could hear, in the still night, the violin crying, or soft sounds of Che Gelida Manina, or some other sad classic. But the biggest indicator, would be the footsteps. I would go to bed to the sound of restless feet, pacing one portion of the room, pausing for a few moments, then continuing again. Once or twice, I was woken up by a sharp cry.  
  
**********************************************************************A/N: That's all I can find for now. Please, possess yourself in patience. Or go crazy if you want. Either way do me a little itty bitty gigantic favor: press that review button type thingy and...well...review... Advice welcome, but if you're just gonna poke rag on me I'm gonna send Guido after you. 


	5. Baker Street Enigma: I eagerly hailed th...

" Have you found out what she's going fer yet?" asked Stamford. It was a midterm later, and we sat outside the Astronomy's Observation classroom, discussing Ms. Elise Escott.  
  
I shook my head and stamped my feet. No matter what the major, seven o'clock in the winter is no time to have a class. "No. At first I thought she was headed towards a medical profession, she talks a lot about the sciences at least. But now...I'm not so sure. Her job here's not any easier. She doesn't write to the paper."I waved a copy of the Mountie as proof. "And no one I've talked to at the places around here has worked with her, not the Grill, the Café, the Express Stops, or the Book Rac. "  
  
"Well have you met any of her friends, asked one a them?"  
  
" I dun think she has any friends as such. But she has had a whole mess of guests, all different sorts : some homeless man, one of those railway porters, a Catholic priest, a beady-eyed man she called Rowlands."  
  
"Narc" grumbled Stamford. I ignored him.  
  
" Yesterday the guest was a young lady. " I didn't say more, I'm sure my face did the rest of the talking, because the next words out of Stamford's mouth were.  
  
"OoooOOOOOH!"  
  
"You've got a sick mind do you know that?"  
  
"Did she introduce you to this vision of loveliness" he joked "I remember you an' the gals at the High School."  
  
"No such luck here. When "Ms. Escott " has her "visitors" our third room becomes off limits to me. Don't get me wrong I mean, she very apologetic about it and everything."  
  
"You try listening at the door?"  
  
"Oh gimme a break!"  
  
"It's the only way you're going to find out anything...short of asking her to her face....Why ain'tcha done tha' anyway?"  
  
" I don't want to. I want to figure her out for myself. There's nothing I like better than a good mystery." 


	6. Observation and Deduction OR ineffable t...

((Thanks Anneliese for pointing out that for some reason, this chapter was written twice))  
  
By the end of the week I was left with no other alternative but to take Stamford's advice. I asked followed hundreds of leads from people I asked, but they had all led to the same answer: yes they knew her, she worked with them sometimes, but she didn't have their job. No they didn't know where she worked, but she had been seen shifting through books in the library, boxing in the health center, fencing (yes Fencing!) in the gym, feeding lambs at the farm, rummaging through instruments in the music room, interviewing the teachers who taught law courses in building 27. There were no definite answers, only more questions.  
  
So, on Friday, our mutual day off I resolved to be up front with Elise. I entered the third room at 7:30 that morning, fully expecting to meet an empty room (most free times she did not leave the room until 10AM). This room, I suppose I should tell you about it, was the largest of the three we rented. It had been lined at one corner with bookshelves, that held books and Elise's own collection of music boxes The other corner supported a chalkboard and some of my own family pictures. Straight head of the doorway were two large windows, with a Victorian style writing desk in between them. Three armchairs and a sofa face each other and gathered around a coffee table. A card table was folded up behind the door. The rest of the walls were covered in a wallpaper of hunter green with that gold fer-de-lance design.  
  
In any case, I had walked in expecting to be alone. Instead I saw Elise, sitting one of the armchairs, chewing on a piece of toast and running her eyes over the comics section of the newspaper. Her clothes, a pair of brown pants and large red shirt, looked slept in. She glanced up as I entered grunted when I saw good morning and turned back to her paper. Having already eaten I turned to the remains of the newspaper scattered around the table. The Mountie was also sliced open, an article circled in red pen. It was anonymous, one of those things where anyone can put something in to fill up space.  
  
"Observational Deduction " it said "is not something only the smartest people in the world can do. It is not impossible either. A person who has trained his or herself to notice another's gait, facial features, and movements can learn enough to reliably determine that person's lifestyle. Even specific markings in and on the clothing can reveal the newcomer's occupation, or in our own cases, their current major.... "  
  
"Oh gimmie a break!" I said, throwing the paper down. "What an arrogant jerk. Probably doesn't even know half of what he's talking about.  
  
"Who?" Elise asked, not looking up from the comics.  
  
"This article! Listen to this.: 'Such exercise may of course seem trial. Or most, I have no doubt, applying these methods will be nothing more than a procrastination technique, but even a small bit of practice will help to develop the keen eyesight neccessary–' this is bull!"  
  
"Really?" She smiled.   
  
"Really." I countered. "I'll bet, you could throw this guy in the middle of one of our general ed classes and he'd never even come close to guessing everyone's major and part-time jobs."  
  
"Ya think so?"  
  
"I'd be willing to bet on it."  
  
"Ya'd lose yer money. First of all, because the person who wrote that is not a he, but a she. Secondly that's a very practical article. And I should know, I wrote it."  
  
"You?"  
  
"Yes. Observation and Deduction is a very practical thing, so much so that I depend on them for my rent."  
  
I tried to shake off my embarrassment and returned to the newspaper. A rustling of papers told me Elise had done the same. After about 5 minutes I ventured.  
  
"Elise?"  
  
"Hm?"  
  
"Uh...nothing."  
  
She sighed. "Nothing will come of nothing Lowell, ask me your question."  
  
'Well, are you studying medicine?"  
  
A pause then a disappointed "No."   
  
"Oh."  
  
Another long pause and then. "What do you do?"  
  
Elise let out a relieved breath as she put her paper down. "Finally, a direct question! Well, I am something of an amateur detective. Not too much you understand, robberies, assaults, things like that which are bound to occur in a over-crowded school. Of course you realize that we have professionals employed at the school to handle that sort of thing, when these people are at a loss they come to me, lay the evidence before me, and I put them on the right scent. Rowlands for example, you remember him."  
  
"The narc." I confirmed.   
  
Elise laughed, a quiet, happy sound."Yes Lowell 'the narc.' Actually, he is a well-known officer in the school security, a detective 'imself. Recently he'd gotten lost in a possible forgery, that is what brought him here."  
  
"What about the others? Are they all students too."  
  
"Some, others live in the areas. Most of them are in trouble and would like a little light thrown in. I listen to their problem, they listen to my advice and I am able to pay for my room and school."  
  
"Without leaving this room?"  
  
"Well, occasionally a larger problem comes my way and I have to go and see things for myself. "  
  
"But...but the school. You work for them?"  
  
"I work for me." She said in obvious pride, trying to make the point clear.  
  
"I mean–"  
  
"I know what you meant. I have made a deal with the Dean, if I help the school and the area it serves, if I can, I will be allowed a discount in my education and a sort of carte blanche for my works around there." ((A/N: There is a story behind this...but I don't know it yet))  
  
"This is ridiculous, it's impossible."  
  
"Not at all. When we first met I asked you about the trip to London."  
  
"Stamford's work."  
  
Elise looked shocked and insulted. "Andrew Stamford is a gossip sure but he didn't know. He only told me you had been away for a year between high school and here. No, I knew it. Lemme see if I can give you the whole train of thought." She leaned back on her chair a moment nodded to herself and continued.  
  
"Here a young man of a medical bearing. A possible doctor? No he carries books on space and mathematics. A child of medics than. He has a coastal tan and a arrogant manner, which puts him in either California or New York.* There's a Western accent, a Californian then, but he seems unsure and claustrophobic here, so from the Northern part. Now I've been told he's been away for a year so...  
  
"His wrist show that he is naturally tanned, but his skin is paler. He's dressed more for European storms than the Santa Anas. And as he's been there for a year I would expect. Yes he definitely has an accent. Where have I heard the kind before? Ah, London. But is it possible? Yes, there was a trip offered around that same time. His feet are dragging slightly, his shoulders slumped. The trip ended too long ago for it to be jet lag. And he appears to actually be more comfortable in this area, despite disliking the crowds. London tends to be a crowded place, I'm told. It's bene so long. Occasionally, when Stamford mentioned this mystery trip, the boy develops a tic and shadows form under the eyes. So it must not have been very enjoyable. But what happened? Well, it's none of my business. Not yet anyway."   
  
She stretched. "The whole thing didn't occupy a moment. I put the conclusion into words nad you were astonished."  
  
I stared at her for a moment. To think a mind could run so quickly over all those details and reach a conclusion that swiftly. I started to speak.  
  
A doorbell rang. Voices came below and footsteps thumped up the stairs.  
  
***************************  
*PR/N: There are some people who, for some strange reason, might be offended by that arrogant coastal reference. This is for them: Like I said I go with what I know and what I don't know, I make up. If you're in any way offended...good for you, you have emotions. You can always just pretended that part of the stories not there. I'll have you know the fact was confirmed by an expert. Okay, so he was just Montressor's history teacher but he's a bazillion years old (approximately) and has been around the world and back again more times then me, so I have to trust his word.   
  
For those who aren't offended, thanks for putting up with this long note that PR#1 insisted be put in to be safe. Enjoy the next chapter.  
-PR#XISquigglyline 


	7. The Mystery pt 1:an illomen

((A/N: My , has it really been that long? Time does fly when you can't write straight doesn't it? Well in any case I'm back to the mystery. Lucky or not, I wrote it a bit long though, so that I've had to divide in two parts. Good readings to you all. Oh, and if you have an aversion to vomit..well you'll see. it's not that bad actually.   
  
-M))  
  
"Young lady, I would like to get something straight with you," huffed Mrs. Garrideb, standing in the doorway.   
  
Elise smiled "Yes ma'm?"  
  
"I run a respectable household. My neighbors know it and you should too. I will not tolerate any indiscretions, indecencies or--"  
  
"Yes, ma'm I know." The younger woman turned towards me, giving me the look I was used to giving to someone explaining Anime to me.   
  
"Than you can understand why I--"  
  
"Excuse me Miss?" came a second voice, followed by a slim looking figure in light brown coming up behind our landlady. "I'm not here to arrest anybody. And I haven't had any complaints. I'm just--"  
  
Mrs. Garrideb turned around, "What?! Then why--"  
  
"Kars." Elise moved across the room to motion the slim figure on. A man barely out of his teens, whose Sheriff's Department's uniform still hadn't shrunk enough to fit him. "Thank ye ma'am, I'll take care of this right 'way and don't you worry it won't happen again."  
  
Mrs. Garrideb glanced at Elise, the officer, me, and started back down the stairs, muttering something about reputations.  
  
The officer moved nervously from foot to foot, nodding to me and my housemate. " Mr. Rowlands says he wants to speak with you straight 'way."  
  
I could almost the emotion slide off Elise's face. She stood straight, her head tilted up "What makes him think I'd come?"  
  
This wasn't helping the poor nervous Kars, who gulped before speaking "He says there's a problem he needs you're help with" Elise snorted " , there's a new development they think you need to see. " With a defeated sigh he began again, speaking in the rapid pace that defined everything about Southern California (except its freeways) "Look you gotta come. I'm th' only one there right now and is this keeps this up I'm gonna kill them both...oh crap."  
  
"'They'?" A smile was growing on Elise's lips. I was reminded for some odd reason of a dog that'd just caught their favorite scent, ears perked up, tail straight and barely wagging. " 'Them'?"  
  
"Oh crap." said Kars again " Yeah...Ummm...Capt. Fern's there too. "  
  
"Really?! Well than there's no reason for us to just stand here while a trail goes cold, is there?" Brushing past Kars, she headed towards the doorway. "Rev up the car Kars, Lowell an' me are right behind you."  
  
"What?" I asked.   
  
Kars began to nod "Um, wait."  
  
She paused midstep. "Yeah?"  
  
He nodded towards her feet. She followed his gaze with a confused expression, then a disgusted look "Oh, right. Shoes." She turned again, heading towards to the closet door that held the door towards the third floor stairs. Kars went the other way, down the first floor stairs. I stood in the sitting room for a minute longer, feeling like an actor who'd suddenly forgotten his role in the middle of a play, then ran towards Elise  
  
"Hold on." I called. She slowed down "What do you mean 'Lowell and I'll be there' ?"  
  
"Just that." she answered  
  
"What makes you think I'm going."  
  
"You got something better to do?"  
  
"I might."  
  
She turned, hand on the doorknob. "Something besides sitting and watching TV all day? Or star watching?" she paused "Thought so. C'mon. You need to get out, enjoy the fresh smoggy air of the Southland. 'Sides, you wanted to know what I did, now you get to see for yourself. "  
  
************  
  
I have heard all sorts of things about California being an isolated paradise. I grew up thinking of it as millions of little paradises. Every person had their own place, country and city. They were huge territories, and people shared them , but they were ours. The community called Vantage Pointe didn't say "ours." It said "mine." In each little lawn, in each triple bolted gold handled mahogany door, in the security gates that seemed to surrounded every block, not the mentioned the large one that encompassed the entire place. They're own piece of paradise, with complimentary paranoia.   
  
One of the Edens was in front of us now, with only the yellow tape, a crowd, a For RENT sign and an open door to say it was different. Kars '92 Ford let out a loud backfiring POW! that scattered a few of the onlookers and effectively cut off my questioning. Not that it had done any good. Kars insisted he couldn't hear me while he was driving, and Elise's only answer to my questions had been "You'll see soon ...not soon enough" and a look out the window.  
  
"Oh damnit all!" She cried Kars managed to park two houses down "Look't that mess. How they expect anything to get done while they're watching. " She left the car and walked straight at the crowd, as though her mere presence would make the great sea of people part. Kars and I hurried to catch up.   
  
"'Scuse us. out of the way there. Pardon, business. Excuse us please. " Stuttered Kars, fighting to open a pathway . "Could you all please go back to your homes now, we would very much appreciate it."  
  
There was a rumble from the crowd. Surely this man of the law, who was trained in solving things, couldn't possibly solve a crime. Only an mere observer, gawking over the evidence was right for that job.   
  
"I wanna see this." called someone I couldn't see, smashed as I was between two men in black wool suits   
  
"Yeah," said another " How else we gonna know what happened."  
  
"You wanna see a case, go watch Law an' Order." Now that voice I recognized. Another minute of fighting and the crowd pushed me out onto yellow tape. A hand grabbed me.  
  
"C'mon Lowell."  
  
Life on the other side of the tape wasn't much better. The crowd here was moving. Police officer choking up the sidewalk, their vehicles and an ambulance clogging the driveway. Kars led us up this driveway. I almost ran in Elise when she stopped.   
  
"What are you doing?"  
  
She nodded "there. D'you see?"  
  
I looked. Parked in the open garage stood a black Jeep. Next to it a silver Z3. "What? What am I looking at?"  
  
"Ne'ermind just now." she started walking again.  
  
At last we reached the silence of the house itself. The brown tile in the entryway, the white walls, seemed particularly cold, even though I could feel no air conditioner running. I really didn't like the silence. It was as though the house itself was holding its breath. There was a scent I felt that I should know, but it was different somehow.. Kars went on ahead of us, so I looked towards Elise to see if she had the same idea. Apparently, she got a fairly different impression. The smile was on her face again and she was humming a tune to herself that I could have sworn was "Pop goes the weasel" while she looked around.   
  
Kars returned with a tall Spanish looking woman at his side, tall and proud in a dark blue uniform. "Well, happy Friday morning to you girl. I suppose I owe you that Coke now right?" She held out her hand, then rolled her eyes and lowered it. On seeing me she asked "Who're you?"  
  
"David Lowell. I'm...ummm..her...roommate." Oh yes. A roommate. That makes me useful doesn't it?  
  
"Lowell's here to take notes. " Elise said as I shook hands with the woman. "Lowell's this is Captain Fern. Now what about the body?"  
  
It was a mutual reaction "What?!"  
  
Elise sighed and repeated a bit slower "Crowds do not gather for a simple robbery. There is no tow truck, so no one crashed into a tree or fire hydrant during the night. I assume it is a murder."  
  
"Well yes that is one part of the problem."  
  
"Then let see it."  
  
Down the stairs and into a living room of champagne colored carpet, more tile and white walls. A leather piece couch and recliner. Each corner of the room held a plant with long floral leaves that may have been plastic in white ceramic bowls. A stone elephant had been knocked over and glass glittered from the floor. A large lump of pink in a blue dress lay among it. In places around the carpet had gone from champagne white to red wine. Then again, the glass, the disorder of the room , the crowds everywhere. Maybe it wasn't wine. That's why the scent seemed familiar. It was from the day I went with my mother to check on a bloated steer at a farm on the day they were slaughtering pigs. Only this wasn't a pig. My head spun, the room was suddenly full of too many people and too much noise, and it was all starting to become staticy. I tried to breathe through my mouth. No good, now I could taste the scent. I managed to stumble up to one of the plants.  
  
Elsie's voice cut through the confusion "Well, that'd certainly ruin any evidence there." I wiped my mouth and glared towards her, but she was already crouched over the body. 


	8. The Mystery pt 2: Rache

"Nothing has been moved." Fern was saying.  
  
"But everything has been touched and that there is the problem." Elise answered without looking up. "The tire tracks for example."  
  
"Tire tracks?" interrupted Rowlands. Light skinned and broad, with black in in an army cut, he handed me a paper towel as I stood up. "Hello Lowell. So she roped you in here did she?"  
  
The she he referred to continued as if he hadn't spoken. "Mm. You didn't come here in your own car did you Fern?"  
  
I noticed Rowlands give Fern that "nyah-nyah- you're-in-trouble-so-there" look I would have thought he'd grown out of.  
  
"No." answered the Captain.  
  
"You Rowlands?"  
  
The narc blinked in shock. "I...no."  
  
"Hmph." she said followed by "Lowell if you've finished sharing you're breakfast with the plant perhaps you could come here a moment."  
  
No. No way. here was no way I was going near that thing. At least that's the rational part of my brain. But there was that other part too. The part fascinated by death. My father would say it is in the genes, a need-to-see life and "death in action" that drove them to their own professions. Whatever it was, it led me to where Elise Escott crouched, hunched over like some vulturish gargoyle, observing the body with dancing eyes. A flick of a hand, and she held out a small notebook and pen. "Think you could take some notes for me? Midterm hand cramps and all that you know."  
  
I nodded, too numb to care and took the items.  
  
It had once been a woman of about thirty, maybe forty. Grey hair wound its way around the blond and brown, and was short enough to reveal pierced ears without earrings. Someone had mercifully closed her eyes before we arrived. Well dressed in a long blue evening gown and what I assumed were expensive heels. The nails had been recently done professionally and the makeup was hardly smudged. All this I jotted down as Elise explained it to me, but what I noticed most was the twisting. A violent twisting that could have made the spine snap with one more twist. A contortion in the face the screamed louder than the open the mouth would have.   
  
"Grab the legs."  
  
"What?"  
  
"Is that the magic word for today? Just grab her legs, Lowell, I want to turn her over." I didn't move. Touch a dead body? "Would you rather take the head and shoulders instead?"  
  
I shook my head, glad that there was nothing left in my guts to escape and did as I was told. Elise's inspection lasted just long enough for me to vow never to touch a cold, dead body for the rest of my life. I've lost count of how many times I've broken that vow since then.  
  
"Alright then. Ease it back and we'll be done." Gladly I helped turn the body back. " 'Ere." I looked towards Elise. She sniffed the air cautiously. Oh thank God, I thought, glad not to be the only one bothered by the scent of death. I was a little curious as to why she had to put her face near the dead woman's to find that out.   
  
"Lowell, a few more notes if you please." I nodded , got out notebook and pen. She sniffed again, casting a look towards Fern and Rowlands with a look of suspicion and paranoia. I moved to her side, whispering. "Well?"  
  
"You smell that?"  
  
"Yes. It's from the body, it's only natural that a dead person should start to--"  
  
"No, beyond that. Take a whiff."  
  
Reluctantly I sniffed. There was something different. It smelled like "Almonds?"   
  
"Shhh...that's what I thought. Thank you Lowell." She stood up and addressed the officers "No jewelry?"  
  
"Over here," Fern moved to a table laden with plastic evidence bags.   
  
"More notes please Lowell" Elise whispered to me. Two rings, gold. One of yellow diamonds with rubies in the center, a necklace of "peacock colorings' (as its written in the notes). No earrings. Five silver bracelets. A silver watch with an emerald embedded in one of the links. The purse. Labeled Gucci. ("knockoff" Elise grumbled. Fern nodded. ) A pair of nail clipper, cosmetics, wallet, California License naming the victim Michelle Connor. two hundred dollars, and a pocket calendar. Inside, that evening, signaled a date with Carl Blessing.   
  
"Any word from him?"  
  
"Nothing."  
  
"Hmph." was Elise's only response "That'll do it for now Lowell. Thank you again. Who found the body?"   
  
"Marcus Johnson. One of the Security officers. He was doing his rounds and saw lights on here. Of course the lights were turned off when the last tenant left. "  
  
"Mm. The coroner can take the body now."  
  
As if on cure, a few dark suited people swarmed around the body. For some reason they felt they need four of them to lift the body onto their stretcher. As they did so, a clink echoed throughout the room. All eyes turned towards them. One of them stomped his foot. "Got it."   
  
The body was loaded up and the man brought over the item. A gold ring, like the others. But not a plain band. It was carved in the shape of a snake, its tail and mouth wrapped around a rainbow colored stone, in what I'm told is the tear drop fashion.   
  
"Well, how'd we miss that?" Asked Rowlands. Beside me, I saw Elise smile again. Had she known it was there?  
  
"Hey. Captain. Captain over here." Kars waved from a corner of the room, covered by another long leafed plant. I followed Elise and the two officers to him. "Look" he said "look't this."   
  
Carved into the wall behind the plant was the word:   
  
Kathar  
  
"Found the weapon that did it, right in the soil there."  
  
"An interesting find Kars." said Elise. "What's it mean?"  
  
The smile that had been forming on Kars' face began to disappear as he wondered. "Umm...well..."  
  
"Oh its obvious isn't it?" scoffed Rowlands "The murderer was trying to write Katharine. "  
  
"The murderer wrote their own name did they?" Fern laughed.  
  
"Of course not. This Katharine was obviously some rival of the woman's or some such. "  
  
"Hm. " said Elise. "Thank you Kars." The younger man turned and left. " With your permission , Fern I think I'd like to look around."  
  
"I've already checked everything, " Rowlands said, a bit louder than I thought was really necessary.  
  
Apparently that meant nothing to Fern. "Go right ahead Miss Escott." she said sweetly. Elise didn't appear to notice, she had already begun to walk around, her stride and gaze the purposefulness of a n art critic in a gallery. Suddenly I was a useless observer again. But not for long.  
  
"I've been over this place twice." growled Rowlands on my left. " She won't find anything new. I'll bet you five bucks she doesn't find anything new."  
  
"Hundred." countered Fern on my right.  
  
"Twenty."  
  
"Seventy-five."  
  
Before us, Elise had grabbed a heavy curtain and yanked it back on its rod, letting morning light in. A group of blue uniformed officers rushed over , apparently telling her to keep her hands off of their crime scene, but she merely nodded moved past them as if they didn't exist.  
  
"Forty."  
  
"Deal."  
  
"Do you really think she'll see something new?" I asked Fern. The two police officers laughed.   
  
"No. I mean she's an okay kid and all, but lets face. There's a way to do things right?"  
  
"I believe that. What were you saying before about owing her a Coke?"  
  
"Oh that. I... well...its rather stupid. I bet her a Coke that ...at the first sign of danger Rowlands would come crawling for her help like a little baby." she grinned. Rowlands said something that I don't think should be repeated in writing. I doubted that was the bet, but wasn't about to say anything. Elise showed up again.  
  
"Yes. Well. That'll have to do for now. I believe we're done here Lowell."  
  
"Not until you've told us what you found, Escott." Rowlands insisted.  
  
"You're conclusions."  
  
"Oh no, I couldn't" insisted Elise, with a wave of her hand. "You and you're friends here are working so well already."  
  
"Come now Miss. Escott. We'll need you're statement sooner of later."  
  
"Oh fine. It was a murderer, and not an accidental one. Caused by a wound in the back of the head. "From falling through the table" Rowlands finished.   
  
"You would think that wouldn't you? But no, it was something else. Possibly one of the bricks in the back yard. They're lose. Check the garden rocks too. The murderer about 5' 9", that is about six inches taller than the victim without her heels and, mostly likely her weight. Fair skinned, black haired, wore brand new thin-soled shoes and a red vest. He chews Skoals. Definitely younger than her, roughly early thirties. Well to do, but necessarily rich. And very well educated. "  
  
"And Katharine?"  
  
"Has nothing to do with anything." Elise shook her head , smiling at some joke in Rowlands question. "Look closer at the words. On the other plant over there "she point diagonally from the Kather plant, "is the rest of the word: i-z-o...Katharizo. It's Greek I believe. Means "Cleansed" Make of that what you will. C'mon Lowell."  
  
I said a hasty goodbye to Kars, Rowlands and Fern and left the scene with Elise, but not before I heard Rowlands   
  
"How 'bout Rock, Paper, Scissors instead Fern? Double or nothing." 


	9. Sgt Johnson: I tell you that it is so

(( Responding to my latest review: To her UnSingedIn in Majesty QueenOfSpain-- A whole day to update. That soon enough? =)   
  
~M ))  
  
Elise led the way under the tape, past the crowds and towards the colds white gates of Vantage Pointe, almost skipping as she walked, clapping her hands with joy.  
  
"Oh it's wonderful isn't it? The sun is shining, the birds are out, and that lovely little scene back there. It's just wonderful."  
  
I nodded. The cheeriness of my companion and the peacefulness outside the house was unnatural, sterile, and my stomach was still fighting itself.   
  
"It's not much of course, the scene, very easy to piece together. The murderer obviously drove up with the victim in their own car, hence those horrible tire tracks, a bit of skid mark at one end yet clear and yet untrampled by the vehicles of this morning, and possibly the oil spills, though those look a bit older... Perhaps they knew each other. A most unusual person this suspect, oh yes, and not exactly a member of this 'fine community' " her lips twisted mockingly at the phrase "Honestly speaking I've never met a person of this class who would stick with chewing rather than smoking, have you? Lowell."  
  
Oh great. now I was supposed to answer? I shook my head. She paused just long enough to look at me and say "What was that? I can't hear the rocks in your head."   
  
I swallowed hard and prayed my stomach would settle down " No, I haven't."  
  
"Didn't think so. So he's obviously someone who worked here now and again, like an unnoticed servant. "   
  
"He?"  
  
"Men's shoes. Very distinctive. He walked with his victim into the house, lit a flashlight he'd brought with him, rather than a candle and BAM."  
  
"What about the almonds smell?"  
  
"Poison maybe. But not enough to murder efficiently. It only brought about pain and those twisted features you saw. It was the blow to the head that did it. Am act of merciful cowardness if you will. " She went on for a while as we walked within sight of the gates. I noticed her turn a few feet from the gates and head into a building made of thin plastic rocks (white and brown tinted for some reason)   
  
"Where are we going?"  
  
"I want to see this Marcus Johnson. " she answered. And knocked on the gold and white door. As I watched, she ran a hand through her hair, straightened her shirt and through her shoulders back, adapting look of seriousness. Even the dancing gleam in her eyes made a final brief flash before disappearing.   
  
I only got a brief glimpse of a weathered face, and grizzled hair before Marcus Johnson slammed the door in our face.   
  
"Mister Johnson sir." Elise began, "Captain Fern and Officer Rowlands sent me to speak with you about last night."  
  
"I already gave my statement. And it's Sergeant. Johnson."  
  
"Yes Sergeant. I know, but they wanted me to check up on the details. "  
  
The door "What kind of an idiot do you think I am girl? I said nothing to the press and I'm not saying a damned thing to a bunch of kids no go home." Slam.  
  
"As you will Sergeant but I really believe it would be better for you to tell me about last night than to have me tell the real police what you were really doing down that street last night." A pause "I don't think theft is part of the Protect and Serve motto of your fine establishment, however petty. and I'm certain relations with --"  
  
Her voice was rising as she spoke, until the door was yanked open. "Fine, Fine just get in here and shut up."  
  
We entered a small beige colored room the one large window, a series of high tech computers and cameras and a photo of a young-looking woman on a shelf and a door open to a back room with a small cot and mini fridge. Sergeant Johnson dropped his bulk into the only chair . "So what is it then?"  
  
"We merely wish to confirm what you've already said in your statement. Now you were here last night?"  
  
"No, I was in the clubhouse with everyone else in the place. The community was having one of their get togethers, it was a landlords birthday, a merger or something. Anyway the party was over at around 2 in the morning and since that's when my shift was on I was getting ready to go home. Before I did though, I figured I'd take one last look around. Most everybody on these first streets had been at the party you know, not that there's many here to begin with."  
  
"Why's that?"  
  
Sergeant Johnson gave Elise a sour look. "Because of the traffic from the street. These folks don't like to be near noise. " he continued "So I went driving up and around here and met up with Charlie, he was just getting off and heading for home, so we stopped and talked awhile. Now the clubhouse I mean is the big one, the at the other Vantage Pointe across the street. Most folks from this Pointe took their cars over and back so I came around to check in with the cameras, making sure nothing had happened since Charlie left and that's when I noticed on camera three here" he waved his hand vaguely " that the lights were on at that house. Nw this normally wouldn't be unsual but there ain't been any electricity one that house for a good few months now, and only the owner of this place has the keys. and she was still up at the party. So I went up there and you saw what I did. "  
  
"And you're cameras? What did they see?"  
  
"Cars coming in and out. Nothing more. "  
  
"No one going in or out of the house. Nothing?"  
  
"Look, little girl, I didn't see no one until that crowd started showing . Then there was only one guy. Pretty tall, dark haired. Wore a nice suit. But the dress jacket was undone and he wore something like a red an' white shirt under it."  
  
"A red and white shirt? You're sure?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"You're positive? it couldn't have been a white shirt with a red vest?"  
  
"How in the hell should I know? It was late and I had a little more to worry about than some drunk fool."  
  
"He was drunk?"  
  
"Wasn't everybody? He'd obviously been at the party and uh...charmed one of our residents if you get me. Though how that happened I can't think. He had this habit of spitting every five minutes it seemed and--"  
  
"Ah, thank you Sergeant I think that's all we need to know for now. We'll let you get back to whatever it is you think you're doing then."  
  
"Wait a minute. What about what you were saying about--"  
  
"The theft and the other thing? " Elise shrugged" What do I care I don't even know you. Just do us one more favor and open the gates so we could leave will you?"  
  
She was back to her joyful self the moment we stepped out onto the sidewalk, next to an occasional rush of traffic.   
  
"Did you get all that Lowell? Of course you did how could you not? And no doubt you see what is means?"  
  
"I have no idea."  
  
"You're kidding me?" She stopped and stared at me "You really don't know?"  
  
"Not a bit. Just that this man Johnson described is the same as your murderer."  
  
"Because he was the murderer Lowell."  
  
"Well maybe..."  
  
"No no, not maybe. Certainly."  
  
"Let's say he was. Criminals don't always return to the scene of the crime."  
  
"They do if they've left something behind. Like a little gold ring, in the shape of a snake eh?" I thought about that "If all else fails, that li'l ring's a good piece of bait."  
  
"And another thing. That place looked pretty well lived in for a renter's home. "  
  
"Sign out front said furniture is included in the renting."  
  
"Yes but still..."  
  
"The real owner probably bought some new junk for their "away from traffic" home and kept this here. It's impressive and easily replaceable."  
  
I nodded, then stopped "Elise wait a minute."  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
I looked around "We came here in Kars' Ford. Which is all the way back inside. Just where are we going?"  
  
"Home."  
  
"And how far is home from here?"  
  
"Only as few miles."  
  
I sighed. A detective she may be, but Elise had a very skewed view of distance. A few miles could have been anywhere between one and ten. "And we're going to walk the whole way?"  
  
"There's a bus stop a few steps from here. Don't worry 'bout the cash I can get it."  
  
There was a bus stop a few blocks from where we had started out. It a good two hours to get us back home , one because of the nature of buses, two because we were kicked off the first one after Elise started arguing with the man next to her about the differences between animal euthanizing and the human Death Penalty. In between rides I asked her how she knew the meaning behind Katharizo and was treated to another of her shocked and confused looks.  
  
"It's obvious isn't it? Where is that machine?"  
  
"The bus schedule says not for another half an hour"  
  
"Well it better be on time. There's a concert at the school tonight you know. Celebrating the spring or some such . "  
  
"That's not until seven though . It's only 11:30 am. "  
  
"Ah. Time for lunch then. A few more trips here and there to take care of some things and Ill be ready."  
  
"What about the case?"  
  
"It's coming together already, a few bits and pieces more is all we need. You coming ?"  
  
I thought of the corpse of Michelle Connor. "Oh no. No umm...no thank you. This is my day off and I intend to stay inside and watch cartoons and court shows for the rest of the day."  
  
She shrugged" Whatever." 


	10. The Ring: I’ll follow her

So much for the blissful thoughtlessness of regular TV. No amount of cartoon children and their super powers could black out the memory of what I had seen that morning. I was seriously considering reaching through the screen and shaking the people's court Prosecution. Didn't these people realize there were more important cases going on? Couldn't they turn on the TV in the court room and see the media frenzy already swarming the gates of the two Vantage Pointes? This was a little more important than "I bought a piece of crap apartment, lived in it for three weeks and now want to be paid pain and suffering." I was saved from that by the sound of Elise's footsteps running up the stairs. The door to the sitting room was opened and I heard.  
  
"Lowell, you in?"  
  
"Yes. Just a moment." I moved from my room in time to see her tossing away pieces of the mail as if testing to see if they would fly. "That's all junk you know."  
  
"Have you gotten anything else?"  
  
"No."  
  
"No telephone calls? E-mails? nothing?"  
  
"No. Why?"  
  
"Oh good. I just spend the whole rest of the morning getting flyers out about that ring. All around the school and along the streets by the Pointe. Here take one." She shoved a green paper in my hand.  
  
Found this morning.   
  
One ring.  
  
Gold snake band, with teardrop stone  
  
Call David Lowell. apprx 3:00 pm   
  
It gave our number.  
  
"Did you suddenly forget how to spell your name?" I asked  
  
"No of course not. But if they saw my name, some of these fools would want to butt in and we can't have that now. "  
  
"And I suppose it's too late for me to tell you not to."  
  
"Exactly."  
  
"Well, suppose someone does call. I have no ring."  
  
"Oh sure you do. 'Ere ya go."   
  
I hesitated. "Where did you get that? That's evidence."   
  
"And a vital clue. Actually its just a replica. "  
  
"Where'd you get a replica this fast?"  
  
"Internet."  
  
I took that to mean I was better off not knowing the truth. and took the ring.  
  
"If any one calls about it that stone is called Tanzanite, possibly with moonstone set in the bottom for a little extra glow or some nonsense. You'll need to ask anyone who call about it, to be sure. "  
  
"And if they call and answer right..."  
  
"Give them the address, send them right on over. You'll see, it's all very simple."  
  
  
  
It was all "very simple" for about two more hours, as the phone continually rang once the clock hit 3:15. Tiring as it was running back and forth, and sometimes not even getting the chance to run, before the phones rang again, I did get the pleasure of seeing Elise's face at each reminder of her self-imposed torture. Misery loves company, and Elise had " a thing about phones." But finally I got the answer I'd been told to look for.   
  
"They'll be here in an hour ." I announced, as Elise lifted the couch's seat pillow of her head. . "It's odd though."  
  
"Eh?"  
  
"The person on the phone. She sounded like an old woman. "  
  
"Then he's sending an accomplice, our murderer. " she stood up and looked around "We'll need protection, just in case. Ya got a gun?"  
  
I didn't. Even if I had, I barely knew how to shoot. I did however have an old metal baseball bat one of my sister's had thrown in the car while I was packing to move.   
  
"It'll do. Keep it nearby you just in case. At the foot of the stairs down there. Lead the person up--"  
  
"Elise, if it's an old woman I don't think she could make it up the stairs. Mrs. Garrideb has a hard enough time."  
  
"Oh fine, through them in the living room or something. Speak to them normally, ya got that? We don't want to scare 'em. "  
  
"Oh no, we certainly can't scare the murderer."  
  
"Exactly. So, down we go then come on."  
  
I went to my room and grabbed the bat from where it was resting again my closet door and went to the stairs that led to the first floor, setting the bat up again the banister of the stair when I got there.   
  
For half an hour I sat next to Elise, feeling like an idiot and waiting for the sound of an car in the driveway. Then the phone start ringing again.   
  
"You're sure she answered the question right?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Hmph." Elise turned, walked back up the stairs and I saw her reached behind the phone and yank the plug out to of the phone's cradle. She walked back down the stairs with a smug look.  
  
There was the unmistakable sound of a car pulling up. "Carefully now." Elise warned me. "Don't frighten 'em."  
  
"Don't scare the murderer, I remember."  
  
Elise opened the door. "Yes?"  
  
"Is David Lowell here?" The voice was weak and raspy. My companion looked at me, jaw dropped, then opened the door wider to shown and old wrinkled woman, who might have been going for a walk from some nursing home. I took a deep breath and forced myself to keep a straight face and look at the woman rather than Elise when I spoke.   
  
"That would be me ma'am. How can I help you?"  
  
"I've come about the ring? You remember, I called you?"  
  
According to the woman, (Violet Shale) the ring belonged to her daughter, who lived in one of the comfortable houses near the Pointe. She had been on a walk with friends , talking about whether or not to buy one of the Vantage Pointe Places, someday, when she and her future husband were better off, and had been showing the ring off when off it fell.   
  
"Why wear something that didn't fit ?" Elise asked.  
  
The old lady turned and looked sharply at her " It belonged to Thomas. He's over the seas right now, since you know what and he hadn't the time to go out and buy an engagement right before he was shipped off. I keep telling her to put tape around it and--"  
  
"And where madam," I interrupted "do you live? In case she loses the ring again we'll know where to take it."  
  
"1201 Chestnut Drive."  
  
"Chestnut never connects with Vantage Pointe."  
  
Another glare. "That's where I live. My daughter , Lindsey, Lindsey Hobbs she'll be soon, she lives off of the Brea Canyon Cut-off."  
  
Elise nodded to me. I handed back the woman's ring and watched her leave, blessing me and her and her daughter's luck. I made sure the care was out of sight before I started laughing. Elise stared at me, and that made me laugh harder.  
  
"Well? What is it?"  
  
"I'm sorry," I managed when I could talk again "I really am. But the look on your face. ...and me without my camera... priceless. "  
  
"Hmph."   
  
"I'm sorry okay? I'm sorry you were wrong. Michelle Connor probably, probably just found it on the sidewalk, where that woman's daughter lost it. It's not that bad you kn---wh-what are you doing?"  
  
"Following of her, of course. " she said, picking up her windbreaker from where she had thrown it over the banister, (hiding my bat).   
  
"That old woman? On foot?"  
  
"Of course."   
  
"You can't be serious. Elise."  
  
She was already halfway down the driveway. "Don't wait up."  
  
I didn't wait up. I just wasn't tired enough to sleep. And when I was, the darkness form the images of golden snakes swimming in champagne and an elephant made of wine. So I sat back and watched the latest series of Law and Order reruns. Seven o'clock came and went. Elise had missed that concert. Eight o'clock. I got bored and went into the sitting room. Elise had put a cassette/CD/Radio player on the table. I idly played with the buttons, hitting Play.   
  
A violin. Piano I think. A whispering voice "A man lies dead, in an empty house in the Brixton Road, his body furiously twisted." Stop. Death again. What was with Elise and death? I went back to my room. Nine. Ten. At eleven o'clock, I turned it to the Simpsons and heard the door on the first floor open and close again. Footsteps headed up and dropped into the sitting room. I waited for the commercial to join her.  
  
"Elise?"  
  
"Hm?" She had sat in her chair again, looking like the last person to finish the marathon.   
  
"You had no luck then."  
  
She laughed, quietly at first. "Ah, Lowell. Do me a favor will ya, don't tell Fern and th' others about this. I swear they'd never let me hear the end of it. "  
  
"What happened?"  
  
"Would you believe it? That woman, took her li'l beat up ol' station wagon she was in, and puttered on down the street a good few blocks. Nothin' wrong there. and there's enough smoke from the pipes and the oil dripping from the bottom to follow no problem. But then the old clunker finally gives up the ghost. She leaves the car and calls up a tow truck. One comes and offers her a ride back home. ' Drive to 1201 Chestnut Drive' she says. "  
  
"That's the address she gave me."  
  
" It is. So off the three of us went."  
  
"The three of you?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"But how did you---" I stopped. She was smiling.  
  
"Have you ever ridden in a car while it's being towed? It's like riding the backwards facing seat on a train."  
  
"How?"  
  
"Station wagon locks aren't hard to open. I mean what's there to steal in it anyway? So while they were talking and filling out forms I made myself comfortable. I watched the driver help her into the truck, and that took an awfully long time. Off we went, taking the freeway and never stopping for more than necessary. Finally we pulled up to the place. You gotta promise not to tell the others about this one., Lowell."  
  
"Yes I promise what happened?"  
  
"We were duped. By the time I got out the wagon the woman was gone. The truck driver wasn't exactly happy about it. It's as easy a trick as climbing into a locked station wagon. The driver had stopped at one of the gas stations near Trotter. It didn't take long, less than two minutes, but it didn't even need that. All she had to do was get out and walk away. "  
  
"When should could barely drive or get into the truck or walk or..."  
  
Elise was laughing again. "Nothing like that. A young, active person is who we had here, no arthritis laden human. And it gets better. We went to the address. It's a house, belonging to a respectable librarian by the name of Meyer."  
  
"Meyer?"  
  
"Aye. No one named Shale or a Hobbs had ever been heard of there. " She sighed and turned her attention to her hands. I looked too, and saw thin red string stretched in the Cat's Cradle fashion between her palms. "Helps me think." she explained. " Unraveling the scarlet thread and all." She turned the project over as she held it, looking at it from different angles. "Well. Nothing new, nothing that can't wait until tomorrow." With a flick of her wrist she tossed the circle of string down on the table and stood. "I'll see tomorrow then. " She looked at me. her face and voice were different: older, quietly commanding. " You're not looking too good. Try not to think on it for the rest of the night. You can't help things by making yourself sick thinking on it."   
  
She left. I sat alone for a few minutes. The silence was too loud. I reached over and pressed the Play button again., twisting the string in my own hands.   
  
"There's the scarlet thread of murder running through the colourless skein of life, and our duty is to unravel it, and isolate it, and expose every inch of it."  
  
Now where had I heard that before? 


End file.
